Sleep, Perchance to Dream
by calliopeiamuse08
Summary: When Brennan falls asleep next to Booth on his couch, he doesn't think much of it - until he finds out what she was dreaming about. Meanwhile, Bones is determined to end these pesky dreams once and for all. Now Complete. Ch. 7: The epilogue.
1. Chapter 1

A/N:_ I'm baaaaa-aaack! Did ya miss me? Did ya? Did ya? _

_*crickets*_

_Okay, so maybe _I _was the only one who noticed I was gone. In any case, here's a little somethin'-somethin' I cooked up for you, a bit of B&B goodness that will likely involve necking at some point. It starts off a bit slower than some of my other fics, but trust me, it's going places. You can expect snappy updates from me, too. _

_As per usual, I would like to offer some imaginary rewards for laying some reviewing sugar on me, but I'm at loss as to what to offer. I'm pretty sure everyone and their cousin has one of my patented David Boreanazes by now, but I've got this big warehouse full of 'em, sooooo... I think you may end up with more of the same. Free Boreanazes to every man, woman and child that reviews! We're going to have to get creative, people. Need a lamp? Have a Boreanaz hold a flashlight! Want a fun Easter activity? Have a Boreanaz dress up in a rabbit suit and hide eggs around the yard! Too cheap to go to the movies? Have your Boreanazes recreate Avatar in your very own living room!*_

_But let's not forget ourselves. You clicked on this link to read a story. So here it is - read on! _

_*Warning: The costs in blue body paint alone will likely be much more expensive than a movie ticket. _

* * *

He'd never noticed how cute she when she was asleep.

Now, normally "cute" was not a word anyone would use to describe Dr. Temperance Brennan. Hot, attractive, icy, distant, brilliant, clueless, _maybe_ even endearing. But cute? Cute suggested something innocent, something immature and naïve. Bones was all maturity and composure; she was a woman, a capable adult woman, not a girl, and she would thank you not to forget it.

But here, sitting on his couch with her head lolling against his shoulder, her lips just barely parted, her face looked so – so –

He couldn't pin it down. Maybe it was the way she was completely unguarded, losing the sharp calculating stare she so often wore. Maybe it was the way her weight pressed against him, making him very aware that he was the only thing propping her up in a sitting position; she was dead asleep. Maybe it was the sound of her slow, deep breathing, sounding for all the world like an exhausted little Parker who had insisted moments ago that he wasn't tired. Whatever it was, for the moment Bones looked cute. She looked damn near _adorable_.

Then she shifted, making a little groaning noise, and she turned her head, burying her face into his sleeve. She nuzzled his shoulder a little, and for a moment he wondered if she was starting to wake up. But then she was still again.

Booth smiled, unable to suppress a quiet chuckle. Bones, the ever-professional scientist, was using him as a human pillow. Sleepy Bones was more friendly even than Drunk Bones.

But then, Sober and Alert Bones would probably disapprove of this whole situation. Was this – if he just let her sleep like this, that wasn't taking advantage, was it? It was totally harmless, and if he had been the one to fall asleep first the same thing would have happened and he couldn't have done anything about it. Booth just never fell asleep during movies; he was always too wrapped up in the action. Bones was never very emotionally invested.

He sighed. He just liked having her near, that was all. He liked touching her, not in a sexual way but just a human-contact way, a warm-puppy-in-your-arms way. Feeling her solid physical presence was at once reassuring and comforting and surprising and –

Not enough.

It was never enough. How could a head resting on his shoulder or a brief embrace ever be enough?

What he really wanted was to wrap his arms around her and clutch her close to him, to leave soft kisses on her lips and whisper sweet nothings in her ear and press his cheek to hers; he wanted to run his fingertips across her skin and smell the faint fragrance of shampoo in her hair and tell her just how much she meant to him. And most of all, he wanted to feel her holding and kissing and touching and loving him back.

But he knew she wouldn't. Not now. Not yet. So he was patient, and he restrained himself, and he relished the simple pleasures that a partnership with Dr. Temperance Brennan offered. And sometimes he could almost swear that something was changing between them.

Lately she was letting him get closer. Granted, it wasn't much. But moments like these, where she let her guard down around him, were getting more and more common. And sometimes when they walked together she'd put her arm through his and he'd feel a little stirring of hope in his heart.

_Pathetic, Seeley,_ he admonished himself. _You're a girl, you know that? A twelve-year-old girl. You may tease Sweets, but he's probably never spent a year pining over a woman without making a single move. And that's not even counting the years you wouldn't admit to yourself that you were crazy about her. _

He checked the time and sighed. It was getting late, and they had a trial coming up in the next couple days. They had to start getting ready tomorrow. Bones needed to get home and get some sleep in her own bed.

"Bones," he whispered.

She didn't stir.

"Bones," he repeated, a little louder.

And then she twisted a little, and let out the tiniest of moans. Mentally he knew it was a moan of protestation, a "five more minutes" moan.

But it sounded…

Hot.

_Jesus. What the hell am I doing? This is _extremely_ inappropriate. Okay, I need to wake her up _now_. _

"_Bones,_" he said again, more emphatically this time.

She blinked groggily and looked up at him in confusion, as if she'd been dreaming she was somewhere else. Slowly she registered where she was. And then, wonder of wonders, she _blushed_.

Bones, blushing? Booth was suddenly dying to know what she'd been dreaming about.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: _Oh, you guys are the best. I received many generous reviews and I'm extremely appreciative; thank you so much for taking the time to give me some feedback. You each get a Boreanaz. They're just so useful! Need someone to hold your spot in line? _Boreanaz!_ Need a model for your latest art project? _Boreanaz!_ Need someone to sell all of your excess Boreanazes? _Boreanaz!_ Review in the next ten minutes and we'll throw in a free pair of booty shorts and a bottle of massage oil - we guarantee you'll find _some_ way to pass the time!*_

_But, all Boreanazes aside, I am very, very needy and would love to get more reviews. Even though I do my best to write good chapters, I still like to be reassured that other people think they're good too. If you don't think they're good, I'd like to hear from you too, because I'm also committed to self-improvement. In other words - _all reviews are welcome._ There. The good news is, I'm pretty sure that anyone who writes a review is automatically submitted to the Vatican as a candidate for sainthood.** _

_And now, brought to you with limited commercial interruption by BoreanazClones Inc.: The Chapter. _

_*Caution: Boreanazes are excellent masseuses, but often expect massages to be reciprocated. Please massage your Boreanaz to prevent discontent, sullenness and feelings of exploitation. _

_** Author's claim is completely unfounded. She's full of crap, folks. _

* * *

"_Temperance_," he moaned.

She unbuttoned his shirt, kissing along the exposed skin. "_Booth_," she breathed. She wanted to kiss every centimeter of him, feel every square millimeter of his body. She couldn't get enough.

"_Bones_."

Something had changed, but she willfully ignored it, making her way towards the faint trail of hair leading down to his belt buckle. A strange urge to giggle bubbled up inside of her. He was almost bare-chested, so to see those little soft brown hairs…

"Bones."

Now suddenly the world grew fuzzy and strange, and she became vaguely aware that she was waking up.

"Bones."

She blinked. Her face was resting on someone's shoulder. She lifted her head slightly, still groggy, and saw Booth sitting there with an unreadable expression on his face.

She had been dreaming, then. She had fallen asleep and dreamed of having a romantic encounter with her partner, slumped against him the entire time. She felt the blood rush to her cheeks. Had she… Surely she hadn't said anything aloud? She hadn't lived with anyone in so many years; as far as she knew, she didn't speak in her sleep, but she couldn't be sure.

"I think it's time for someone to call it a night," he told her, in a tone she (thankfully) recognized: one of amused superiority. He reserved it for moments like these, when she had to admit that he was correct but didn't want to.

"Yes, I think you may be right," she conceded. "I still have to drive home." She sat up and began to put her heels back on.

"So what were you dreaming about?"

She froze, and then tried to continue her actions casually. "What makes you think I was dreaming?"

He smiled and shrugged. "Just a hunch. You looked pretty disoriented when you woke up. What was it about? Wasn't a nightmare, I could tell that much."

Brennan stood up and retrieved her jacket, avoiding eye contact. "There's no point in discussing it. Dreams are meaningless, the result of random neural firings during the REM stage of sleep."

"C'mon, Bones," Booth wheedled. "Just about everybody in the greater D.C. area has heard my coma dream. This is just a little nap dream. Just - indulge me."

She was irritated at his insistence. "It was a _sexual_ dream, Booth," she retorted. "Does that satisfy your curiosity?"

As she had expected, at the first mention of sex he seemed at once abashed, surprised and uncomfortable. It was amusing, really, how easily embarrassed he was; the odd thing was that he always seemed to be embarrassed on _her_ behalf. Sweets would have something to say about that, perhaps suggesting that Booth was only uncomfortable when the concepts of sex and Brennan were brought _together _in conversation, but she didn't put much stock in Sweets' observations. He was, after all, a psychologist.

Booth laughed nervously. "Oh. Sorry. I should've taken the hint."

"You mean, you don't want the to hear details of my dream, now that you know that it was sexual in nature?" she inquired, raising her eyebrows.

"Nah, I'm – that kind of stuff is personal, Bones," he responded evenly. "Like I said, my fault for prying. Now, I _believe_ you were heading home to get a good night's sleep. We've got a lot to do in the next few days."

"I'm going," she grumbled, grabbing her purse. She stood up and walked to the door, and at the last moment turned to face him. "Goodnight, Booth."

"Goodnight, Bones." He flashed a warm smile.

Suddenly Brennan's mind shot back to the tiny brown hairs on his lower abdomen and she remembered, all at once, that in her dream they'd been in this apartment, on that couch, and it had all started with a smile. She'd opened the door, and he was sitting on the couch, waiting, and then he'd smiled, and she'd thrown herself on him –

She felt the heat rising to her cheeks again. Abruptly Brennan opened the door and left the apartment, closing it behind her somewhat forcefully.

What was happening to her? It certainly wasn't the first sexual dream she'd had; it wasn't even the first about Booth. After all, her partner was an attractive male, and the unconscious mind will do what it pleases. But lately they'd not only been more frequent, but more… detailed. Vivid. Real. And to have one as she slept in his presence gave her the irrational fear that he could somehow see the images in her head written on her face. His ability to interpret her expressions was uncanny; sometimes it seemed as if he could read her mind...

But he couldn't really read her mind. That would be impossible.

And yet, the way he'd looked at her when she woke up.

As if he _knew_.

She got into her car and sighed as she turned the ignition. Surely there was a way to prevent these kinds of disturbing dreams, some kind of meditation technique that would at least provide the placebo effect. Maybe Sweets would have some advice on the matter. The only problem was that he would most likely prefer to analyze her dreams than help her get rid of them. Brennan didn't like that thought. But who else could she turn to?

_Of course!_ She smiled to herself. _Angela_. _Angela will have advice for me._


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: _This just in: A new study has confirmed that the readers of are totally awesome. According to Dr. Calliopeiamuse08, who conducted the study, it was found that readers "reviewed like the wind" and "were extremely flattering." In an interview she said, "We expected these results at the beginning of our study, because readers have been found to be fantastic in the past, but frankly, we were astonished by the advanced levels of awesomeness exhibited by the test subjects. We had to build a new awesometer." All of the participants in the study received a David Boreanaz clone as compensation. Anyone who would like to participate in the ongoing study can simply review the following story and they will be automatically entered. _

_In other news, we have the Boreanaz Tip of the Day. Today's tip: Using Boreanazes to save on your heating bill! At night, simply turn down the thermostat and position 1 to 3 Boreanazes around you for warmth. Boreanazes love to snuggle and will transform any frosty spring night from cold to cozy. _

_And finally, the new chapter. Enjoy!*_

_*In case you didn't know, the author has been posting her chapters at about midnight. Any correlation between the lateness of the hour and the randomness of the _A/N_ is entirely coincidental.  
_

* * *

Just when he thought he had her all figured out, she managed to catch him completely off-guard. He'd known that the dream was going to be something embarrassing, but he hadn't thought she'd just come out and _say_ it…

_It was a _sexual_ dream, Booth. Is your curiosity satisfied? _

He groaned and ground his palm into his forehead. _Asshole. I shouldn't have bugged her about it._

_Christ, I hope she wasn't dreaming about Hacker. _

That thought was disturbing enough to propel him off of the couch and towards his bedroom. But even as he changed into his pajamas and turned off the light, he couldn't forget the look on her face just before she'd slammed the door behind her. He'd seen it in her eyes, in the flush of her cheeks; as nonchalant as she was about sex, she was really and truly embarrassed.

He sighed and climbed into bed. Well, he'd have to make it up to her tomorrow.

So… why couldn't he sleep?

He took his phone off the nightstand. He could call Bones…

But what would he say?

_Sorry for – for not actually doing anything, really. Sorry that you were embarrassed? Sorry for owning a comfortable couch that's easy to fall asleep on? _

_Jeez, that's not what I meant to say. I really am sorry. _

_Sorry I pushed you when you tried to get me to back off. _

_Look, it's not a big deal, happens all the time. I mean, the explicit dream thing. I've never actually had someone fall asleep on me and have that kind of dream before – _

_Who were you dreaming about anyway? Anyone I know? _

_Me?_

_Naw, now _I'm_ the one who's dreaming._

_...  
_

"For the love of God, Brennan!" Angela exclaimed exasperatedly. "Would you please just sleep with the man already?"

The two were seated on Brennan's office couch, the door firmly shut; now would not be a good time for a nosy squint to wander into earshot.

Brennan frowned. "I don't believe in God."

Angela sighed. "You know what I mean. Look, sweetie, you're having these dreams because your subconscious is trying to tell you something."

"Yes, it's telling me that I need more sexual stimulation," Brennan agreed.

"No! It's telling you that you need _Booth_," Angela insisted. "This is not about sex, it's about Booth."

"How can you say that my sex dreams aren't about sex?" Brennan asked, baffled. "You're beginning to sound like Dr. Sweets."

"You know, maybe _that's_ who you should be talking to," Angela suggested. "You clearly refuse to be sensible and take my advice."

"If your advice were at all reasonable, I would," Brennan retorted. "But you're suggesting that I jeopardize my partnership for mere sexual gratification -"

"And you won't do that because your relationship with Booth is too special," Angela finished.

"Well, I'm not sure if 'special' is the right terminology," Brennan mused. "But essentially, yes."

Angela rolled her eyes. "Sweetie! Do you realize how crazy you are? You're saying that you can't sleep with Booth because you care too much about him!"

"Exactly!" Brennan exclaimed triumphantly.

Angela stood up in frustration and smoothed out her skirt. "Look, just – How about this. Why don't you try _talking_ to Booth and explain to him what's going on?"

Brennan laughed skeptically. "Really, Ange. That sounds extremely ill-advised."

"You don't have to give him all the dirty details," Angela explained. "But the more you obsess about this, the more you're going to be thinking about Booth, and the more you're going to dream about him. Ergo, if you go to Booth and get this weight off your chest, you'll stop dreaming about him."

Brennan raised her eyebrows. "You really think that will work?"

"Probably not," Angela admitted. "But it's worth a shot, don't you think? I can tell this is really bothering you, and Booth will be able to tell too. He's not going to understand if you suddenly start shutting him out. You guys have made it through Booth arresting your father, you dating his brother, and him dreaming you were married. Don't let this be the thing to come between you."

Brennan realized Angela was right. She and Booth were honest with each other; she couldn't conceal her feelings from him, and he could always tell when something was wrong. Sooner or later he'd ask, and she didn't want to lie. He'd know she was lying and he'd be hurt.

No, there was no other way around it. She had to come clean.


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: _I apologize for the long delay! Unfortunately, real life intervened. Sadly, I am expected to do homework if I am to continue attending college. It's a real travesty. However, I procrastinated some of that homework to bring you this update. Hopefully, you won't have to endure such a long wait between chapters again for the rest of this story._

_Thank you, thank you, thank you, to everyone who reviewed. You are awesome, and your Boreanazes are en route. And now, to answer a question from the peanut gallery:_

_Q: How can I use Boreanazes to keep me cool?_

_A: We're glad you asked, valued patron! Simply give each scantily-clothed Boreanaz a leafy frond of some sort and instruct them to fan you. For a decorative touch, keep one Boreanaz on hand to feed you chilled grapes!_

_And now, without further ado because it's 1 in the morning where I am, the chapter._

* * *

When Booth arrived at the Jeffersonian, he half expected Bones to be buried somewhere deep in Limbo. However, he quickly spotted her and Angela holed up in her office, the door shut but the blinds open. They appeared to be arguing about something; Angela looked frustrated and insistent, while Bones was wearing a defensive expression of disbelief. He'd bet twenty bucks it was about Bones' dream – if he hadn't sworn off betting, of course.

_Well, no need to get in the middle of girl talk_. Just as he was about to turn and walk away, Angela exited the office. She immediately zeroed in on Booth and flashed a big smile. "Booth! Perfect timing. Brennan wanted to talk to you."

"Really? What about?" he inquired.

Angela's smile turned positively Cheshire-like. "Why don't you find out for yourself?"

For some inexplicable reason, Booth suddenly got a hollow feeling in his stomach.

_Pull it together, Seeley. Whatever Bones wants to tell you, Angela's excited about it, so it can't be bad news. Right? Right. _

_But I could have sworn they were talking about… _

Booth shook off his unease and entered the office. Bones was sitting behind her desk, staring carefully at the screen.

"Knock knock," he said playfully.

She whipped her head around, startled, her eyes wide. "Booth! What are you doing here?"

"I brought over some notes from the prosecutor," he explained slowly, handing her the file, not sure what had gotten into her.

She flipped through the file.

"And Angela said you wanted to talk to me."

She froze. "Oh." She resumed flipping.

"Well?" Booth asked.

She glanced up at him. "Well, what?"

"_Did_ you want to talk to me about something?" he prodded. _Jesus, Bones is being difficult today. Probably still pissed about last night._

"No. Or, rather, yes, there is something I want to discuss with you, but I wasn't planning on seeing you until later," she answered.

Booth stared at her. He couldn't believe her sometimes. "Well, I'm here _now_," he stated bluntly. "What do you want to say to me later that you can't say now?"

"I haven't – I haven't organized my thoughts properly," she muttered.

"Just spit it out already!" Booth insisted.

Bones stood up, her hands still on her desk, and took a deep breath. "Booth," she began, looking straight into his eyes.

He waited.

"You and I have known each other for some years now," she continued. She broke eye contact and began looking at her fingers. "And biologically speaking, I suppose it was only a matter of time; I am a fertile female, and you are a virile male, so it was almost inevitable. Still, when it did happen it was unexpected –"

The sense of apprehension that had clung to Booth since he spoke to Angela was growing by the second. He was only barely hearing her words, because in the back of his head a tiny voice was whispering, _So it was about you, Seeley. It makes perfect sense – the embarrassment, the defensiveness. She was dreaming about _you_. You knew it all along, you knew it from the second she looked at you and turned bright red – you were just afraid to admit it, afraid you'd be wrong._

_But I am! I am wrong! I have to be – _

"And I certainly never expected for it to happen the way it did last night, when I was with you –"

"Bones, what are you trying to say?" Booth demanded. He needed to get this over with, needed to hear her speak plainly and bluntly like she always did and remind him that she didn't feel that way, that she never had, that she probably never would.

"The sexual dream I had at your apartment." Her eyes flickered up to his again. "It was about you."

_Oh, God._ He put his hand to his forehead and closed his eyes. "And _why _are you telling me this?"

"Because it's not the first time," she admitted. "And it's been weighing on me since last night, and I'm hoping that having this conversation will allow me to focus better on my work. But I'm also afraid that you're going to feel uncomfortable around me from now on."

And it was those words made his eyes snap open. She was looking at him anxiously, a hint of regret in her eyes. "I would leave and allow you to process this," she offered, "but this is my office."

Jesus, she could make him feel like such an ass sometimes. "Look, Bones, I don't want you to leave," he assured her. "Just – sit down, will you?"

Obediently she sat, watching him warily.

He sighed and pulled up a chair. He sat quietly for a second and tried to find the right words. "Okay. Here's the thing, Bones," he began. "You're worried that since you had a – a dream about me, that I'm going to freak out and start avoiding you. But you felt obligated to tell me anyway."

She nodded.

He couldn't help but chuckle. "_Bones._ I don't scare that easy. I had a dream that we were _married_, and when I woke up I still believed it. It doesn't get much scarier than that."

"But those were different circumstances," she protested. "You were in a coma, and I was reading you my book, the protagonists of which were also married –"

"My point is," Booth interrupted, hunching forward, "if anybody should be running for the hills right now, it's you."

Bones smiled slightly and narrowed her eyes. "Why would I go to the hills?"

Booth's lips twitched upward and he leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms. "I don't know, to dig up bones and stuff I guess. Whatever it is you anthropologists do when you're not solving crimes."

"You've worked with me for five years, and you still don't understand anthropology?" she inquired.

He shrugged and smirked. "Well, you know all that squint stuff goes in one ear and out the other. You play with skeletons, that's all I need to know."

"I _study_ them," she corrected.

"Naw, you have _way_ too much fun with them to be studying," he teased.

Bones' smile widened, and they shared a comfortable moment of silence.

"You're very good at that," Bones suddenly said.

"Good at what?" Booth asked.

"Putting people at ease." She eyed him curiously, as if he were one of her many archaeological specimens. "I wish I had that ability."

In a flash Booth understood why he'd felt so apprehensive. Because he'd known what she'd dreamt about, yes; and now that she'd admitted it, he'd run out of excuses. He loved this woman, damn it, and he'd been able to pretend that the only reason he wasn't pursuing her was because she didn't feel the same way. Well, she had professional and personal respect for him, that much he knew, and now evidently she was attracted to him as well. She hadn't put the pieces together yet to form the big picture, but then that'd always been his job, hadn't it? There was no more reason to keep hiding and waiting and hoping. Now was the time to act.

"I'm glad we had this conversation," she continued. "Since I'm no longer worried about the durability of our professional partnership, I'm optimistic that my subconscious will discard you as a dream subject matter." She happily picked up the file he'd brought her and began looking through it again. "We can put this entire debacle behind us."

_Well, shit. _


	5. Chapter 5

A/N: _Hello again, my dear readers. Words cannot express my gratitude for your reviews (well, they _could_ but I would have to ramble on for about 3 pages or so, and no one wants to read that). Every time I get a review, it's like Christmas and Easter combined. Plus, you guys are all so _nice!_ Internet hugs for everyone. Oh, yes, and before I forget - you each get a Boreanaz! They'll be shipped out by sunrise. _

_And that brings us to the Boreanaz Tip of the Day: Start a motorcycle gang! If you're like me (and I bet you are), you've got more Boreanazes than you know what to do with. Why not teach them to ride motorcycles? They'll look so smokin' in their leather jackets, riding on their roaring hogs - _and_ they'll get out of your hair for a few hours while you spend some one-on-one quality time with a special Boreanaz of your choosing.* _

_In other news, a new chapter is below, and it's a tad longer than the previous ones. Enjoy. :)_

_*If your Boreanaz sees you enjoying "quality time" with another Boreanaz, he may become wildly jealous. We understand that they are genetically identical, and therefore competition is moot; unfortunately, the Boreanazes do not see it that way. We apologize for the inconvenience. _

* * *

When she entered the room, she saw him there. He was sitting on the edge of the bed, hunched over with his face buried in his hands.

Silently Brennan sat down next to him. She hated to see him so upset like this. Gently she stroked the back of his head.

He sighed, and wearily dragged his hands down his face, his fingertips raking down his eyes and cheeks and coming to rest on his chin. He stared into space, lost in his own thoughts.

"It's not your fault," she told him quietly.

"Then why does it feel like my fault?" he muttered.

"Booth." She took his face in her hands and turned it towards her, so she could look right into his soft brown eyes. "There was nothing you could have done differently."

They gazed at each other for a moment, and he reached up and placed his large, warm hand over hers. Slowly he closed his eyes and leaned his cheek into her caress. She could feel his iron resolve crumbling at her touch; his adam's apple bobbed, and his fingers started to tremble.

"I love you so much," he whispered shakily.

Brennan's heart throbbed painfully in her chest. "I love you too," she whispered back. "More than I can ever say."

And it was true.

~*~

Brennan sat up in her bed.

_So. It was a dream. _

_Another Booth dream. _

_Damn._

Brennan was disappointed; Angela had been wrong. The conversation didn't help. And yet… maybe she was right about something else. This dream didn't seem to be about sex. If it wasn't due to her anxiety or her pent-up sexual urges, why _was_ she having these dreams?

_It's about Booth. That's what Angela said. _

_But that doesn't make any sense! What _about_ Booth? He and I have an excellent partnership. I couldn't ask for more. _

_Well, I _could_. But that would be… inappropriate. _

_But you want it anyway, don't you? _

_No! I'm stronger than that. _

_I am. _

But as much as she reassured herself, Brennan felt a small chord of anxiety resonate in her heart. She was frightening herself with these dreams, with the uncontrollable emotions that seemed to sweep her up every time she closed her eyes.

Brennan found herself picking up her phone and dialing.

"Hello?" a deep voice groggily answered. "Bones? What's going on?"

Instantly Brennan regretted calling him. It was a mistake. "Nothing, Booth. I'm sorry for calling you so late and waking you. It can wait until tomorrow. I don't know what I was thinking."

"Is something wrong?" he asked.

"No, everything's fine, I just -" she sighed. "I'll talk to you tomorrow. Goodnight, Booth."

She went into her kitchen and made herself some tea, hoping that would soothe her nerves. She was just about to rinse out her mug when she heard a knock on the door.

Brennan opened the door. "Booth?"

His hair was mussed and he'd obviously thrown his clothes on quite quickly. "Hey, Bones," he greeted her, as if it were perfectly routine of him to show up on her doorstep in the middle of the night. "Wanna let me in?"

"Oh - yes - of course," she stammered, moving aside. "You didn't need to come over, Booth. I told you that it could wait."

He sat down wearily on her sofa. "Look, I don't care that it's one in the morning, I wouldn't care if it was three in the morning. You never call me in the middle of the night like that, so whatever's going on, it's important to you. That makes it important to me. So talk."

Brennan sighed. "I had another dream. About you."

Booth's eyes widened slightly, but the rest of his face remained composed. "A dream? Seriously? C'mon, Bones. What is this really about?"

"It wasn't sexual, but it wasn't platonic either," she explained. "And I realized that instead of asking Angela how to get rid of these dreams, I should be asking you."

"_Me_?" he asked incredulously.

"Yes, you," she replied. "You had a four-day coma dream about an imaginary relationship. I'm sure that afterward, you must have had some… residual dreams. How did you stop them?"

Booth exhaled slowly. "Honestly?" He clasped his hands together and avoided her gaze. "I didn't."

Brennan stared at him. "I don't know what you mean."

"I mean, from time to time… I still have dreams about you."

She couldn't believe what she was hearing. "Wh-what kind of dreams?" she sputtered.

"Nothing too shocking." His eyes remained intently on his clasped hands. "We're just – walking together in the park, or something. Eating breakfast in a kitchen instead of a diner. Dancing. Just, you know, couple-y stuff."

"You don't have… sexual dreams about me?" she asked, eyebrows raised.

Booth chuckled. "Oddly enough, not so much. I'm not going to say it never happens, but…" His eyes met hers. "Most of the time, my Bones dreams are pretty tame."

Brennan remained silent for a moment, trying to make this new data fit into her understanding of Booth.

"Look, Bones, it's normal that we have dreams about each other once in awhile," he said, shifting on the couch to more directly face her. "We see each other almost every day. We're a big part of each others' lives." He smiled softly. "I know you're one of the most important people in _my_ life, anyway."

_He and I have an excellent partnership. I couldn't ask for more. _

_Well, I could. But that would be… inappropriate. _

_But you want it anyway, don't you? _

"I don't think you called me at one a.m. to ask me how to get rid of weird dreams," Booth continued. "I think you got scared because your dreams are the one part of your life you can't control, and they're making you feel things you don't want to feel. And when you got scared, your instinct was to call me because I'm your go-to guy when your emotions confuse you, when you can't bottle it up inside anymore and 'compartmentalize.' I think you _know_ deep down why you're having these non-platonic dreams, and that frightens you. And the weirdest thing is, I think somewhere in the back of your brain you _want_ me to know it too."

"Speculation," Brennan breathed. Her heart hammered in her chest, and she was barely able to keep from standing up and running away as fast as she could. "You have no evidence."

"True." He smirked. "But I have a gut feeling about this."

_That would be… inappropriate. _

_But you want it anyway, don't you?_

Suddenly Brennan found herself pressing her mouth against his, kissing him as if there were no tomorrow.


	6. Chapter 6

A/N:_ I apologize deeply, again, for the delay. Once more life and homework intervened and I was forced to set my beloved fanfiction aside in favor of passing my classes. While I was being derelict in my duties as an author, however, I got many absolutely wonderful reviews from absolutely wonderful people. Everyone gets their own Boreanaz, _plus_ a Boreanaz-size bunny suit for the upcoming Easter season.*_

_This update's Boreanaz Tip of the Day: Start your own sports teams! Teach your Boreanazes to play hockey, basketball, soccer, you name it! Sports will keep them physically fit and give them a chance to bond (a good way to prevent jealousy), and you can hold tournaments with your fellow Boreanaz collectors. An added bonus: When scrimmaging, encourage your Boreanazes to play shirts versus skins._

_Oh, and by the way: Chapter. _

_*Warning: A Boreanaz in a bunny suit may frighten small children and some costume-phobic adults. Please advise all participants in your Easter/vernal equinox festivities that a large, hunching man in a pink rabbit costume will be lurking about the premises.**_

_**Warning: All Boreanazes lurk by default, unless instructed otherwise. _

* * *

Kissing her came as natural to Booth as breathing. He didn't have to think, _couldn't_ think – his mind was filled with one word only.

_Temperance. _

Somehow he ended up falling backwards on the couch (taking Bones with him, of course), and just as he began lifting himself into a sitting position again, she planted on hand on his chest and _pushed him back down. _

_Dear _God _she's hot_.

It was when her hands slid under his shirt, however, that he realized what she was _really_ doing. "_Wait,_" he panted, grasping her wrists. "Wait. Bones."

She stared at him, baffled.

"Don't do this because you think you're supposed to," Booth pleaded. "Please. Those dreams don't mean anything."

She narrowed her eyes. "What are you saying?"

_I can't believe I'm saying this._ "I'm saying, if you thought it through and decided that the best way to fulfill your biological urges is to sleep with me, I don't want this," Booth explained.

Bones cocked her head, obviously still confused.

"Look, Bones…" Booth sighed, trying to find the right words. It didn't help that she was still straddling him. "I care about you, okay? I care a lot. And not because it's logical. In fact, it's probably the least logical thing I've ever done. But my heart –" he put a hand to his chest – "my _heart _tells me it's right. And I want to be with you, more than anything, but only if _your_ heart is in it. I don't want you to kiss me because it makes sense, I want you to kiss me because you –" He caught himself before the words tumbled out of his mouth.

_Too_ _far, Seeley, don't go there just yet or you'll scare her off forever._

"Because I love you?" Bones finished, her beautiful blue eyes boring into his.

He nodded slowly, unable to say a single word.

"The way that you love me?" She held his gaze intently, seeking something in his face, in his eyes.

"You _know_ I do," Booth whispered.

She smiled and leaned down, her lips a breath away from his, and murmured, "Then I want you to know, there are actually several good reasons that I _shouldn't_ do this but –" and she closed the gap between them.

...

"Bones?"

"Hmmm?" She snuggled sleepily into his chest.

Booth absently stroked her hair. "What does this make us?" He was afraid to ask, but he had to know.

"Partners," she murmured.

He glanced down at her. Her eyes were closed and her lips curled upward. _Damn, she's cute. How could I ever think she wasn't cute?_ "But we were partners before. That's what we'd always say, that we were 'just partners.'"

"But we don't stop being partners now," she mumbled. "We're still partners… From the Old French _parçener_, one who shares or has a part with someone."

_Good ol' Bones, the walking encyclopedia_. "Can we be more than partners?" Booth asked. "Partners plus?"

"You can call me your _lover_," Bones suggested, eyes still closed but her smile widening, "but I think that word makes you uncomfortable."

"Just a little bit," he admitted. "How about… girlfriend and boyfriend?"

She wrinkled her nose. "Such a juvenile expression."

"Well, if I introduce you as my 'woman-friend', I think it might send the wrong message," Booth chuckled.

"What if we're just… together?" She snaked one arm up and around his neck. "If anyone asks, say we're together."

"Alright," he assented, "I can live with that." Then another thought occurred to him. "What do we tell the squints?"

"We don't tell them anything," Bones sighed. "They're all very bright. I trust them to draw inferences on their own."

"Okay. And what do we tell each other?"

That made her open her eyes. "What do you mean?"

"Can I say –" He swallowed the weird lump in his throat. "Can I say, 'I love you, Temperance Brennan'? Is that okay with you?"

"Yes."

"As often as I want?"

A short, breathy laugh. "Yes."

"Can I say it in public?"

There was a moment of hesitation. "Yes."

"Can I kiss you in public?"

A quick grin. "Very briefly. And never on duty. When we're at work, displays of affection would be inappropriate and unprofessional."

"Right, right. Of course. And lastly… will you say it to me?"

She turned her face upward so she could look in his eyes. "Yes."

"As often as I want?"

"Yes."

"Well then." He tightened his arms around her. "Is now too soon?"

She smiled at him then, a radiant smile that made his whole body feel fuzzy and warm. "I love you, Seeley Booth." She gave his chest a quick kiss. "Now, let me sleep."

He chuckled and obliged her, pulling the covers closer around them. _Partners. From the Old French _parçener_, one who shares with someone._

_I like that. _


	7. Chapter 7

A/N: _Okay, you want the good news or the bad news first? The good news is, this chapter is super extra long! _Yay!_ The bad news is, this is the last chapter. _Boo._ But, every story has its natural conclusion and all that remained for this particular story was a sugary-sweet cavity-inducing epilogue. This chapter has three sections, so I _could_ have potentially milked another chapter out of it, but one of the chapters would have been very short and I'd rather just tie everything off__ neatly.  
_

_Now, I must emphasize: this is the LAST CHAPTER. No take-backs. For every one of my previous stories, at least _one_ person has added my fic to their Story Alert list after I published the last chapter and changed its status to Complete. Personally I don't mind, cuz it just racks my numbers up, but I feel bad for the people who added my story expecting an update... and never got one. So, just so you know, I'm not kidding when I say it's over._

_Now we come to the part where I thank the reviewers. Thank you, reviewers! You each get a Boreanaz and my sincere, heartfelt appreciation and gratitude. Without you, I probably wouldn't neglect my schoolwork and laundry to write non-canon romances. So... I owe you? Everyone who reviews after this point gets _three_ Boreanazes because honestly, I _need to get rid of them. _They're eating me out of house and home! Plus, I think some of them are starting a fight club. Every time I come down to the basement they stop talking and stare at me, and then they all pretend they have things to do elsewhere. And they're always shirtless. Which I don't mind; it's the mysterious injuries that worry me. So please, review and relieve me of my burden.  
_

_Oh, and a final note for this chapter: I use the word "capisce". If you don't recognize it written, it's pronounced "ka-PEESH." It's the Italian version of "Comprende?" or "Okey dokey?" I feel like most people know and use this word in the spoken language because of mobster movies and whatnot, but you hardly ever see it written._

_And now, the final *sniffle*... chapter *snuffle*... Oh, I can't do this! *bursts into sobs* Cut to commercial!_

* * *

"Brennan."

Brennan looked up from her computer. "Yes, Angela?"

Angela approached her desk slowly, looking downcast and sheepish. "I just wanted to say… I'm sorry."

"Sorry for what?" Brennan asked, perplexed.

"For telling you to tell Booth about your dreams," she explained, twisting her fingers. "I really thought he was ready to hear what you had to say. I guess I was wrong."

"I don't see why you feel the need to apologize," Brennan replied, still uncertain why Angela was so contrite. "I told you that it was a very satisfactory conversation."

"_Sweetie_." Angela gave Brennan her best look of sympathetic pity. "I know what you _told_ me. It's obvious that it didn't go well. You two have been avoiding each other like the plague all day. You can barely even look at each other. So, I'm sorry; my normally incredible love instincts failed me."

Before she could stop herself, a smile snuck onto Brennan's face. She and Booth had realized quite early on that being within a radius of five feet of each other was too much temptation. Wordlessly they'd agreed to stay apart – far, far apart.

Suddenly Angela's eyes narrowed, and she leaned in closer to Brennan. "That smile," she accused. "You're _smiling_. You are _hiding_ something from me, Temperance Brennan!"

"I'm not hiding anything," Brennan protested. "You simply never asked."

"Oh no, you can't blame _me_ for not being nosy because I'm normally _very_ nosy but this is the first time we've had a minute alone since –" Abruptly Angela stopped herself and opened her eyes very, very wide. "Oh my God. Brennan. Tell me. _Exactly._ What happened yesterday."

"Well, as you know, I spoke to Booth about the dreams I'd been having about him," Brennan began nonchalantly. "And I hoped that would be the end of it. But then last night, I had another dream about Booth, and without thinking I called him –"

"You _didn't_," Angela uttered in a low voice, jaw hanging. "You _booty-called _Booth?"

"No!" Brennan answered, frowning. "I ended the call, but he came over anyway to make sure I was alright. And then we had an interesting discussion about our dreams and I realized…"

"... that you're soulmates!" Angela finished, biting her lip in barely-contained joy.

"_No_," Brennan admonished. "There's no such thing. I _realized_ that the reason I was dreaming about Booth is because the possible benefits of a romantic relationship with him actually outweigh the possible detriment. He's excellent agent, an attentive father, and he and I are so compatible that the probability of finding another man equally suited to me is incredibly slim, and I should take advantage of opportunities to – to build a family."

Angela's face was radiant. "So what you're saying is, you jumped his bones and then came up with reasons why that made sense."

"Well." Brennan felt her cheeks grow warm. "It could be misconstrued as that, yes."

"And you do at least realize that you love him, right?" she probed.

"Yes." And now a pleasant warm sensation was growing in her chest, not unlike the feeling she'd had while falling asleep in Booth's arms. "I think I may have loved him for some time, actually."

"Oh, sweetie." Angela's eyes were bright, and she reached across the desk, grabbed Brennan's hand and squeezed it. "Finally. _Finally_. After all these years, you've finally come to your senses. Miracles _do_ happen."

"It's hardly a miracle, Angela," Brennan denied. "People fall in love every day."

Angela shot her a deprecating look. "Brennan. I've been trying to warm you up to the idea ever since I met you, and it wasn't until a couple of months ago you would even admit there was even a remote chance that love wasn't just a chemical reaction. Trust me, sweetie, it's a miracle." She patted Brennan's hand. "Now, I've got to go back to work. But tomorrow, we're having lunch, and we will have a woman-to-woman chat, and you're going to give me all the details. Capisce?"

"Alright, Ange," Brennan laughed, resuming her work.

...

"So, Camille, what have you got for me?" Booth asked, drumming on the autopsy table.

"You seem chipper today," Cam observed.

"That I am," he agreed, smiling. "Veeery chipper."

She eyed him curiously. "Did you meet a new girl?"

"Nope," he replied truthfully. "I did not meet a new girl."

Her eyebrows shot up. "Oh! You met an old girl! I mean –" She winced. "That came out wrong. What I meant to say was, did you – Dr. Brennan –"

He grinned and leaned in conspiratorially. "We're _together_."

"So – just to be clear here – you told her that you love her, right? This isn't some sort of baby-daddy arrangement?" Cam asked, looking apprehensive.

"Yup. And she feels the same way," Booth replied, unable to stop beaming_. She loves me. Love love love love love,_ he thought happily. _All you need is love. Love, love. Love is all you need. _

_Wow, Seeley. You really _are _a preteen girl. Watch out, or next thing you know, you're gonna be writing "Mr. Temperance Brennan" on the backs of notebooks. _

"That's great, Seeley!" Cam exclaimed. "I'd hug you, but…" She gestured to her apron, which had the remnants of their latest case smeared on the front of it.

Booth grimaced. "Understood."

"So, do I have to give you the same speech I gave Angela about knocking boots on the premises of the Jeffersonian?" she asked, only half-joking.

"No, no, no," Booth assured her. "We've agreed to keep our personal lives personal. When we're on the clock, we keep it strictly professional."

"How's that going?" Cam inquired.

Booth sighed. "Reeeeally slowly. And you know Bones – she's a workaholic. If she gets buried in her work she could be here until midnight."

"Not tonight."

He spun around to see Bones, standing in the doorway with a small smirk on her face.

"I get off in half an hour, Booth, and then we're going to dinner," she stated. Without missing a beat, she walked right past him and over to Cam. "Dr. Saroyan, are you done with the remains?"

_God I love that woman. _

A few minutes later, Bones took her leave (taking care not to make anymore eye contact with Booth, of course). Cam watched her go, and then gazed at Booth.

"What?" he asked.

"She really does love you, Seeley," she said, with a knowing smile.

Booth laughed. "I know, but how do _you_ know? All she did was waltz in here and ignore me for a couple minutes."

"We just opened a pretty baffling homicide investigation, which is Dr. Brennan's favorite kind of case," Cam explained. "She's getting her first crack at the bones tonight, a process that she normally likes to spend several hours on, and she's leaving it to have dinner with you. Trust me – she loves you."

...

Her shoe nudged his under the table.

Booth grinned. "Are you playing footsie with me?"

Bones took a bite of pasta. "That was accidental."

A silky stockinged foot slid up his calf.

She raised one devious eyebrow. "_Now_ I'm playing footsie."

"Gee, Bones," he said carefully, suddenly finding it difficult to speak evenly. "I was sure you were going to say you were unfamiliar with the term."

"You were wrong," she replied nonchalantly, sliding her foot back down ever so slowly. "But I think I'm distracting you from your steak, so I'll stop."

"Distract me all you want," Booth responded, wiggling his eyebrows and doing his best impression of a grade-A sleaze. "I don't mind."

"Stop leering at me and eat," Bones laughed.

"_Fine_," he sighed. "But you started it."

They ate silently for a moment, occasionally glancing at each other between bites. The soft golden lamplight of the restaurant cast the prettiest glow over Bones' face and she looked just - flawless.

"What are you thinking about?" she asked.

"How beautiful you are," he murmured. "You?"

She swallowed another bite. "I was thinking about mandibles."

"Jawbones?" he chuckled. "Well, that makes sense. Since we're chewing, and all."

Bones gazed at him, a slight smile playing over her lips. "I was noticing your mandible, actually. It's more pronounced than most and... I find it attractive."

"Thanks." Booth smiled back, and for a moment, everything and everyone around them seemed to disappear. It was just him and her, here, now, together.

_Who'd've thunk. I love her and she loves me and life is good, just like I imagined it.  
_

_I guess some dreams _do _come true. _

_

* * *

_A/N: _Thank you so much for reading. Hopefully you enjoyed it, and didn't find the last line unbearably corny. ;) __And to everyone who reviewed - you are awesome. You are the wind beneath my wings. *bursts into song* _Did you ever know that you're my heeeeee-roooooo? You're everything I would like toooo beeeeeee -

_Oh? It's over? It's time for me to say goodbye? Well, then farewell, my fair readers. Mayhap we shall meet again. Think on me fondly and remember - I always loved you. _

_What's that? Too creepy? _

_Nah. :P_


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